


Third Time's The Charm

by sergeantwinter



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 20:18:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9013906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sergeantwinter/pseuds/sergeantwinter
Summary: Steve has had many different Christmases over his lifetime.





	

**1.**

“Bucky?”  Steve called as the stairs outside the apartment creaked. Bucky looked smug as he opened the door, hiding one of his hands behind his back. He walked into the kitchen and began to rummage around the cupboards, careful to keep the object he was holding out of view. Steve furrowed his brow and walked over to close the door, leaning on it with his arms crossed as he watched Bucky, amused. After a minute, Bucky, apparently satisfied with the contents of their kitchen, walked back over to Steve.

“Merry Christmas, Stevie!” he grinned, thrusting a small bag at Steve. Steve took the bag from him and opened it; his mouth dropped open when he realised what was inside.

“Sugar?”

Bucky nodded, still grinning. “It’s not much, but I think it’ll be enough.”

Steve was speechless. Since rationing began sugar had been hard to come by; Steve had never really had a sweet tooth but there was one thing he had been longing for – cookies, just like his ma used to make. This must have cost Bucky an arm and a leg.

“Doesn’t matter.” Bucky replied, shaking his head. Steve was too excited to press the issue. He gathered the other ingredients for the cookies and combined them, becoming lost in repetition of rolling and cutting the dough.

Once the cookies were baking, Steve sat down in front of oven, legs crossed. “You know they won’t cook if you watch them,” Bucky said as he wrapped a blanket around Steve’s shoulders and sat down next to him. Steve stuck his tongue out in response before leaning into him.

“Thank you for this, Buck. I mean it.”

Bucky wrapped an arm around Steve and kissed the top of his head. “Anything for you, pal. I mean _that._ ” They sat in front of the oven like until (contrary to Bucky’s warning) the cookies were done. Steve took them out of the oven and placed them reverently on a plate reverently, slapping Bucky's hand away when he tried to take one.

“They’re too hot,” he reasoned as Bucky pouted. “Besides, I need to give you your gift.” Bucky could’ve stolen a cookie at this point, but Steve felt Bucky's eyes on him as he rummaged under their shared mattress; he retrieved a piece of paper which he held close to his chest as he walked back over to Bucky. A blush had spread over Steve's face, and he looked off to the side as he handed the paper to Bucky. It was a pencil drawing of the two of them, lounging together in the apartment as they had done countless times over the course of their lives. Steve had wanted to show Bucky just how much he valued – with the war looming over their heads, Steve had no idea how much longer it would last.

Bucky practically leapt at Steve, kissing him fiercely before enveloping his small body in a hug, but being careful not to crease the drawing. “I love you, Steve. Thank you.” His voice was thick with tears, and Steve answered by squeezing him tighter. He wanted to live in this moment forever.

Too soon Bucky pulled away, but gripped Steve's shoulders with determination. He looked serious now, and Steve was almost worried until Bucky said “Can I have a cookie now?”

Steve scoffed as he playfully slapped Bucky's arm. “Jerk.”

**2.**

Avengers Tower was alive with colour. The place had been decked head to toe in fairy lights and tinsel, Christmas cards from Tony’s many friends and contacts lined the walls, and festive wreaths adorned almost every door in the building. There was a huge Christmas tree in the main room, glittering with baubles and ornaments, and Tony and Bruce had managed to grow what looked like a small forest of pine trees on the roof. The front of the building was similarly illuminated in red and gold – “It just so happens that Christmas and I share a colour palette,” Tony had said.

The tower was homely despite the extravagance, but nevertheless Steve was holed up in his room. He hadn't been out of the ice for a year yet, and was still struggling to come to terms with his situation. He barely knew these so-called teammates of his; he barely knew anyone. As much as he hated to admit it, Steve was alone in this future.

There was a knock on his door and the feeling of self-pity began to slip away. He was lucky to be alive, not least with people who had shown him such kindness and acceptance. He should be thankful that for the love and kindness his teammates had shown him. Steve dragged a hand down his face, willing himself to feel happy, put on a show. He smiled as he opened the door to Natasha, who was wearing a bright blue jumper with a snowman on it.

“Food’s ready.” She took Steve's hand in hers, and Steve let her lead him into the kitchen for Christmas dinner with the other Avengers. The conversation was already in full swing and didn’t cease when he sat down, instead accommodating him when Thor handed him a Christmas cracker. “You're the only here who is strong enough to make this a fair fight.”

“Now, see, if you’d just let me go and get my suit –”

“No tech at the table, Tony, we don’t want another incident like thanksgiving.” Bruce sighed, not even looking up from his plate.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Fine, _dad._ ” Steve smiled at their easy comradery before turning back to Thor. With a huge pull, Steve found himself with the majority of the cracker; he tipped it upside down and out fell a keyring in the shape of a spider, with a red hourglass on its abdomen.

“These are official Avengers Christmas crackers.” Tony stated when Steve made a face at his prize. Tony’s face split into a grin. “Yeah, people love us.”

Once they had finished eating, Steve and the others migrated to the main room. Natasha was curled up next to Steve on one of the couches, drowsy after all the food she had eaten. Natasha seemed to have taken Steve under her wing, obviously noticing how uncomfortable he felt most of the time. Steve had bought her a bracelet with a little heart charm on it as a Christmas present.

“Do you miss your family?” Steve asked her.

Natasha rubbed the charm on her bracelet absentmindedly as she thought about her answer. “I think I miss the idea of a family. I don’t really remember much about my parents,” she said; her tone was curious. “Do you?”

“I miss everything.” Natasha didn’t probe any deeper and they sat in silence for a while, watching the others, until Natasha seemed to remember something. She left Steve's side and walked to the kitchen.

A few moments later, she reappeared with a plate of cookies shaped like Christmas trees and delicately decorated with pastel icing.

Steve stiffened as soon as he saw the cookies, and his heart seemed to seize in his chest. He must have been hyperventilating but he felt like he couldn’t get any air in at all, as though his throat was being squeezed by some unseen force. The others were speaking, calling his name maybe, but they were muffled; Steve's entire world had narrowed down to the plate in front of him and one word was at the front of his mind, sharp as a knife: _Bucky._ A wave of some feeling he couldn’t quite name propelled him from his seat, and his world expanded into excruciating pain when he shut his bedroom door.

 

**3.**

Its Bucky’s first Christmas home.

Avengers Tower is as lively as every Christmas, but this time’s different. Bucky makes the place truly feel like home, and Steve can't keep his eyes off of him; he can't believe this is real. It’s as though Steve had been living in the dark for the past four years and somebody just turned on the light. Steve’s hand itches for a pen as he watches Bucky interacting with the others – he’s laughing at a joke Natasha told him in Russian whilst tony tinkers with his arm. Somehow Tony had persuaded Bucky to let him install tiny LED lights in his metal arm which flash dimly in time with his heart beat. Steve thought it was endearing.

Steve almost feels envious of the ease with which Bucky talks with the other Avengers, makes them laugh. Almost. When Steve was in this position, freshly out of the ice, he had felt so awkward and alone. He couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that he had travelled 70 years into the future, and, ow that he thought about it, he was probably still grieving. Bucky was the love of his life, and he had been ripped from his grasp so suddenly and cruelly. No, Steve isn’t envious of Bucky – he’s grateful that Bucky isn’t alone in this, and he thanks God every day that Bucky is safe, that he’s _home._

He's so lost in thought that he doesn’t notice Bucky extricate himself from the group and make his way over to join Steve next to the counter. Steve is pulled back into the present when Bucky squeezes his arm, sliding his hand down to hold Steve’s.

“What were you thinking about?” Bucky asks.

Steve smiles fondly up at him. “How happy you are here.” Bucky squeezes his hand in response. They sit in silence for a few moments; “I know what would make you happier, though. Close your eyes and open your mouth.” Bucky raises one eyebrow in amusement.

“Is this going to be as dirty as it sounds?”

“Do it and you’ll find out.”

Bucky complies, and Steve reaches across the counter to grab a tree-shaped cookie. Steve had asked Natasha if they could bake them together as a surprise for Bucky; he had never apologised for the incident, either, and wanted to make it up to her. Steve shoves the cookie into Bucky’s mouth, much like couples do at a wedding. Bucky makes a muffled noise of disapproval as Steve laughs at him – he looks like an angry chipmunk with his cheeks full.

His laughter is contagious: Bucky laughs too, spraying crumbs everywhere. Eventually he swallows, still grinning at Steve. “I got you something, too.” Bucky reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a spring of leave with white berries and a red ribbon tied around the top.

Steve takes the leaves from him and holds them up his face, pretending to be confused. “Can I eat this?”

Bucky scoffs. “It’s mistletoe, punk.” he says, pushing Steve's shoulder.

“You better kiss me, then.” Bucky gladly obliges, raising the mistletoe over their heads as he leans down. Their lips meet; Bucky tastes like sugar cookies and icing, and it’s as though they never their apartment in left Brooklyn.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my gift for the stuckysecretsanta2016 on tumblr!!
> 
> (All the stuff about rationing is not historically accurate))


End file.
